


To An Ideal

by sinuous_curve



Category: Young Avengers
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, F/F, Service, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-30
Updated: 2012-10-30
Packaged: 2017-11-17 10:04:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/550395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinuous_curve/pseuds/sinuous_curve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I should be out there,” Kate says, mutinously flicking a piece of popcorn at the TV. Lucky, curled up on his blanket, whuffs out a noise of possible agreement. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	To An Ideal

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. Prompted and audienced by locketofyourhair.

Kate and Clint have their thing now, their little dynamic duo partnership that thrives around their shared name and mutual love of arrows. Cass is secretly waiting for the day when they show up in matching costumes. The bets tend to center around who’ll be the hero and who’ll be the sidekick, and Cass thinks anyone scoffing at the idea of Clint playing Robin to Kate’s Batman doesn’t know Kate very well. 

Still, for the time being Clint is also an Avenger and that means every couple weeks he ends up battling mutant Hydra monsters or the latest A.I.M. weapon of mass destruction. Without Kate. Because Steve, God love him, still has trouble reconciling the adults they’ve all become with the children they were back in the day. This week it’s Loki and Amora, and an army apparently stolen from Hel and brought to Midgard, or so Thor says. 

Sitting on the couch with Katie, a bowl of popcorn between them, Cass thinks the world has gotten weirder. 

“I should be out there,” Kate says, mutinously flicking a piece of popcorn at the TV. Lucky, curled up on his blanket, whuffs out a noise of possible agreement. 

Cass sets the bowl on the coffee table, in deference to the fact that she doesn’t want to clean up a mess and that it’s probably not great for Lucky to be eating whatever they spill, and scoots closer to Kate. Her shirt’s a little bit big, enough that one of the straps has slipped down over her shoulder. Cass fixes it, and tucks her chin onto Kate’s shoulder. “Will you be really angry if I say I’m glad you’re not?”

Kate sighs, but shifts so she can throw her arm around Cass’s shoulders. “Hate you? Never. But we’re goddamn superheroes, Cass, that’s what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“Loki and Amora are magic,” Cass counters. “Monsters and magic, isn’t that what Clint says? They’re in a league of their own. Call me selfish, but I like when you’re here on the couch with me.”

Kate rolls her eyes, but the corner of her mouth turns up in a very slight smile. She pushes her fingers into Cass’s hair and pulls the rubber band around her pony tail off. Cass shakes her head so the suddenly loose strands fall over her shoulders and around her face. “You’re biased,” she says, but her tone has slipped into affectionate rather than frustrated. 

“And you’re tense,” Cass counters. “Let me distract you.”

She shifts a little, straightening and putting one foot on the floor. Kate raises a considering eyebrow. She runs her fingers through her hair and rolls her shoulders, loosening them up like she does before she starts shooting. A little kick of warmth goes off low in Cass’s hips. 

“Okay,” Kate says, quirking her mouth into a smile. “Go get ready. You’ve got five minutes.”

Cass pushes off the couch and steps over the coffee table, willing the sudden warm push in her veins to not spiral out into accidentally growing ten feet and popping the roof off. She jogs down the short hall to Kate’s bedroom -- first door on the left with a picture of the Young Avengers in their civvies taped in the center. 

Her space is neat enough, though her bed isn’t made and there’s a pile of papers and books stacked haphazardly on her desk. Cass goes straight for her closet and pushes back the door with a small squeak of wheels on the track. There’s a dresser fitted neatly inside and Cass knows the bottom drawer is pajamas, then jeans, then work out clothes, and the top is half underwear and bras and half their own private little treasure chest. 

Cass pulls it open and their leather harness is on top of the pile, all well cared for black leather and brightly shining buckles. She hooks it out with two fingers, and grabs Kate’s favorite purple dildo with her other hand. Cass got it for her as a private Christmas present the year before, exchanged Christmas Eve as they lay tangled in bed together with the fairy lights hung around the window turning Kate’s skin blue and red and yellow and green. 

Quick as she can, Cass shimmies out of her jeans and panties, tossing them onto Kate’s bed. She snugs the dildo in the harness and pulls it up over her hips. The buckles are almost always set to fit her hips, so all she has to do is tighten them up a little. She smoothes her hands over the streps and shakes her hips. The weight of a the dildo jutting out always makes her feel like she’s walking around with her pelvis thrust obscenely outward. Cass has found she’s not entirely opposed to that. 

“Thirty seconds,” Kate calls from the living room. Cass yanks off her shirt and bra and jogs out of her room and back down the hall, bumping into the end of the couch just as Kate finishes her countdown. 

“One,” Kate says, grinning. “Good timing.”

She’s sprawled out along the entire length of the couch now, pants shucked off and folded neatly on the coffee table with her bra on top. Kate can see the peak of her nipples through the thin fabric of her tank top and her black panties stretched smooth over her pelvis. Cass swallows and licks her lips, clasping her hands behind her back. “What do you want me to do?” she asks. 

Kate cocks her head against the pillows she’s got propping herself up, and smiles. “I want you to fuck me, Cassie.” 

They’ve been doing this for long enough that Cass knows what Kate likes. She knows what will make her feel good and what will make her come apart at the seams and have to be put back together. Cass is _good_ at it, and maybe she gets off a little harder on taking care of Kate than she does on anything else. Maybe she just really likes knowing she’s the only person in the world who can look at the cant of Kate’s hips and the way she’s holding her head and know what she needs. 

Cass climbs over the arm on the couch and settles on her knees between Kate’s legs. Clint’s couch was obscenely big long before Kate ever moved in, and they’ve spent more than one night imagining what (and who) he’s done on it with their hands stuck down each other’ pants. Kate shifts up a little, one hand on the flat of her stomach and the other tucked behind her head. She watches Cass with dark, affectionate eyes. 

Carefully, Cass hooks her fingers in the waistband of Kate’s panties and slips them down her thighs and knees. Kate obligingly lifts her feet so Cass can get them all the way off and toss them away. The thatch of hair at her cunt is dark and curly, and Cass feels another little insistent kick of heat at the sight of it. She will never get tired of how Kate smells, and tastes. 

But Kate needs to be distracted, Cass reminds herself, and that means something particular that Cass can give her. 

Cass shifts forward, so Kate has to spread her legs wider and wider to make room for her. She draws two fingers along the split of Kate’s cunt, then pushes inside to repeat the same traced line. Her skin is hot and warm and soft, and she’s already wet. “Would you like more, or are you ready?” Cass asks, circling her fingers around the hot little rise of Kate’s clit. 

Kate flexes her hips upward. “I’m ready,” she says, her voice pitched low and hot. 

“Okay,” Cass says, and kisses the inside of her crooked knee. 

She pushes her hands between the couch cushions and a few seconds later comes up with a bottle of lube. There are, as a point of honesty, two separate and very differently shaped bottles living in the couch at any given time. (It’s another one of those things Kate grinningly says she and Clint don’t talk about, and that Kate and Cass have mused about to each other clutched close together with hands everywhere.) Cass pops the top and pours a little into her hand, then slicks up the purple dildo and pushes the bottle back into the couch. 

Kate’s hand has drifted up from her stomach, pulled her top down, and settled curved around one breast. Her nipples are hard and she toys with it absently, pinching and flicking at the little pink nub with her bottom lip caught between her teeth. 

Cass skims her palms along Kate’s thighs and settles her hands around Kate’s waist. She pulls her down a few inches, so that her hair ends up fanned around her head like a dark halo and her hips are canted upward. Cass circles a guiding hand around the dildo and positions herself. She runs the flared head along Kate’s cunt and gets a soft, anticipatory sigh in response. 

“Yes, that’s good,” Kate murmurs. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Okay,” Cass says. She is, can be, very good.

The first slide into Kate is slow and gentle, Cass taking her time to give Kate’s body a moment to adjust. Sometimes they do this hard and fast, just spit and sweat and slap of their skin colliding, but. This isn’t one of those nights, this is Cass easing away the tension in Kate’s shoulders and leaving no room inside her for the crush of doubt that always comes when Clint is fighting and she isn’t. Cass knows beyond any doubt that Kate is perfect, and she knows Clint knows it, and she believes she can make Kate believe it, too. If only for a moment. 

“Yes, Cass,” Kate says, arching upward. “Yes, you’re very good.”

Cass smiles with her head ducked and starts thrusting. It’s shallow at first, but then longer as she picks up and easy rhythm. Cass sees the flush start on Kate’s chest and flare outward, up her neck and over her collarbone and her shoulders. Kate throws a hand over her eyes, like she always does when the build is slow and easy. 

It’s quiet in the apartment, just the soft, wet sound of the dildo and Kate’s flesh and the softer creak of the leather straps on Cass’s skin. Cass braces herself with one hand planted on the couch beside Kate’s hips and uses her other thumb to rub a slow, steady circle on her clit. 

Kate’s orgasm comes up slow, starting with the way she suddenly goes tight from the top of her hips to the bottom of her ribcage. Cass keeps fucking her, refusing the lose the steadiness she knows Kate needs. Kate makes noises, soft little gasps that escape in staccato bursts, like she’s trying to hold them back. 

When she does come, it’s with a whimper and her shoulders lifting off the couch. Cass fucks her through it, ignoring the throb in her own cunt. Kate is beautiful and wonderful and perfect, and Cass is the only person in the world who can take care of her like this. 

Only once the last of her aftershocks have abated does Cass slip out, with a little mournful sound from Kate as the loss. “Come here, come here, Cassie,” Kate murmurs, throwing out an arm to make room. Cass shifts onto her side and they manage to make room for them both, Cass’s head on Kate’s shoulder and their legs tangled together. 

“You distracted?” Cass asks, hopefully. 

Kate nods. “Yeah. That was perfect, good girl.”


End file.
